


So What If I Haven't Shaved in a Week?

by rainyssa



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, First Time, One Shot, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainyssa/pseuds/rainyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warden Cami and Alistair have returned from Orzammar. After some heavy flirting, he's finally ready to join her for the night.</p>
<p>(Prompt from writeworld.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	So What If I Haven't Shaved in a Week?

So what if I haven’t shaved in a week? Cami thought to herself. She had finally unbuckled, unhinged, and detached all the various plating and freed herself from the chafing leather padding. Throughout their travels and glorified errand-running in Orzammar, Alistair and Cami had shared several flirtatious exchanges, and she was sure that he was finally ready to share her tent.

Cami sat on her bedroll, leggings rolled up, glaring at the offending prickles. It would be his first time and this is what he got? As if the various gashes and bruises that mottled her body weren’t enough.

Maker’s balls, she was going to do this. Cami flung open the tent and marched up to him, intent blazing in her eyes. “Join me. In my tent,” she blurted before Alistair could react to the tiny mass of fury approaching him.

“Join you…in your tent?” his voice lilted.

“I, uh, hem, yes, but if you don’t want to…” her voice fell away, probably off to join her rapidly plummeting nerves.

“Oh, no, that’s not it at all, not that I want to seem over-eager.” Color was quickly seeping to his cheeks and ears, “I must sound like a fool. You know that I’ve never done anything like this. With anyone. I was quite sheltered after all. I care for you so much, and whenever I think of this, I feel like a bumbling idiot- all hands. I wish I could be better at this. I want it to be right.”

Alistair finally paused, either for a breath or her response, and respond she did. Cami threw herself in his arms, standing on her toes, and crushed her lips against his. He returned her kiss hesitantly, expectantly. He kissed like he was asking a question, and she was more than happy to answer.

Alistair pulled away, flushed to the tips of his ears, “I think you said something about your tent?”

Cami looked over her shoulder as Leliana tried to look busy tending the campfire while Zevran watched intently, one eyebrow cocked. She shot both of them a smirk and led him to her tent, tying the flap firmly.

Alistair stood, hunched awkwardly in the center, glancing around nervously. She turned to him, stepping deftly between the various articles of clothing and armor and loot cluttering the small space, save for the dense bedroll.

She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheeks, slinking behind him, circling like a predator. Her nimble fingers went to work and armor fell to the floor, clamoring and landing in a pile near hers. Hands ran over shoulders, snaked around and found a home beneath his linen undershirt. He could feel Cami’s breath near his shoulder blade, kisses following the curve.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, “Do you want to stop?”

“Maker’s breath,” he whined as one of her hands inched closer to uncharted territory. His blood was pounding in his ears as well as other places. Alistair stood stiff, arms hanging awkwardly at his side- frozen.

Immediately, her hand withdrew, and she moved to face him, “I’m an ass, I’m sorry, a complete ass. I rushed you. I’m sorry.”

He cupped her face in his hands and locked eyes with her, “No, I-“ he swallowed, “I’m ready, just…” another pause as he searched for the right words, “Just show me. Help me.”

“Slower,” she said, more to remind herself. She had gotten so used to quick trysts in the dark, no attachments, but this was so much more.

Alistair kissed her again, soft lips against her, parting ever-so-slightly to nibble at her lower lip. He slid his hands down to her shoulders, calloused thumbs tracing the ends of her collarbones through the rough material of her tunic. They ventured further down her sides, feeling her lithe frame. 

“May I?” he whispered, toying with the frayed end.

She nodded, placing a kiss on his jaw before leaning away. Alistair lifted it over her head, Cami lifting her arms to assist, and let it fall to the floor.

“Can we, uh,” he peered nervously to the bedroll, “Should we lie down? I mean, if you want to.”

Cami laughed, and let him guide her, kneeling on the dense padding facing each other. Alistair tucked a stray hair behind her ear and traced her jawline down to her chin, sending tingles down her spine. His hazel eyes scanned her body, committing ever moment to memory: her sun-browned, honey toned skin; the smile playing across her full lips; deep brown eyes watching him quizzically. Her breast band hugged her tightly, and he could make out tiny nubs straining against the fabric. He brushed a thumb against one, eliciting a shiver.

Alistair lacked experience, yes, but young men gossip and soldiers, even more so. He had ideas on what he was and was not supposed to do. Anticipation pulsed in his veins and his hands were trembling as he unlaced her band, pulling the leather thong loose and letting the strip of fabric fall. He inhaled sharply, entranced by her breasts. Cami placed his hands on them, his large calloused fingers enveloping them completely.

Cami leaned into him, watching him through narrowed eyes. He was completely flushed, ears a burning pink. He squeezed gently, rolling her wine nipples in between his fingers. Alistair dipped his head down, running a flat tongue across one while squeezing the other harder. That earned him a throaty moan as he switched.  
Her nipples were like velvet against his tongue. He licked, nibbled, and sucked the nubs, ravenous for more. Alistair gently pushed her backwards, trapping her beneath him. Braver, hungrier, he kissed her again. He was clumsy, making up for it with passion. Something emboldened him, like an animal had awakened inside. He hovered over her, leaning on one arm while his free hand explored more uncharted territory. Cami moaned into his kiss when his hand cupped her sex through leather breeches. Alistair moved down her body, tiny suckling kisses trailing down her stomach over bruises and partially healed wounds. Strong hands worked at her tights, tugging.

Alistair looked up at her, eyebrow arched, “A little help?”

It was Cami’s turn to flush and she slowly raised her hips, silently praying to the Maker he wouldn’t notice the stubble. Her smalls rolled off with her breeches, and he tossed them haphazardly behind him. Alistair inhaled sharply, sitting back on his heels, as he took in the complete sight. Cami squirmed, mildly embarrassed by his studious gaze. His name escaped her lips in a hushed whisper, breaking his trance.

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered with a hand over his mouth, “I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Your turn,” she growled, leaning forward to push him back. She rubbed her palm against his hardening cock through leather breeches. He instinctively thrust against her hands and groaned, his head tilted back. Cami nipped at his neck, her fingers twisting free his laces and freeing him. Her hands worked him expertly, as she gripped him gently, thumb working circles at the base of the head. Cami grinned wickedly before taking him into her mouth. Alistair fought to keep his eyes open, watching her leaned forward and swallowing him whole.

“C-cami,” he sputtered, trying to keep his hips from jerks, “Slow…slow down.” She pulled away, strands of saliva and pre-cum trailing down her chin.

“Are you okay?” Concern mixed with desire in her deep brown eyes, “We can stop.”

“No, no, Maker, no,” Alistair ran his hands down her sides, “I just, I can’t, I never imagined anything like this.”  
She giggled, a soft lilting sound. She swatted his nose gently with her index finger, “What, you never took yourself in your own hand? You never thought of me those cold night stuck here at camp?”

Maker, he was sure he was blushing new shades of red. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he found the right words, “Yes, well, I must say my hand has never felt as good as yours.”

Cami pulled his shirt off and laid back, placing it under her head. She spread her legs slightly, the liquid beaded between her legs catching his attention. Alistair brushed a knuckled down her slit and brought it up to his crooked smiled, tasting her. He was either pleased by her taste or reaction and sunk down between her. He pinched her outer lips before spreading them and slowly sliding a finger inside. He curled his digit gently, relishing in the warm, dampness that leaked from her cunt. Alistair looked up at her, gauging her reaction. Cami’s head was back, eyes half closed, with a glowing flush that warmed her body. He withdrew the finger, and she gasped as a probing tongue set to exploring. Lapping her entry, he worked his way around, over, and inside of her before hitting the tiny bundle of nerves that was her clit.  
She moaned, louder than intended, and nodded furiously. 

This was a good thing. He focused there, flicking his tongue over it until the muscle burned and sucked, hard.

Cami’s moans grew louder as she twisted beneath him. She clutched his shirt, biting into it to hold back sounds, until the build was too much. The release made her whole body shudder, muscles tensing and releasing all at once. Alistair kissed her neck and breasts as she came back down.

She moaned his name softly, “Please, I want you inside of me.”

Alistair was more than happy to oblige, sinking into her slowly, savoring every inch, until he was completely inside of her. She ground against him, a deep moan escaping her lips.

“Don’t make me beg,” she croaked.

He pumped slowly, finding a rhythm to match her rolling hips, gaining momentum. He grunted, her walls clenching around him. Maker, he was so close already. He clenched his jaw, brow furrowed. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, deeper, as she mewled his name. That was all it took. He spilled inside of her, and collapsed on top of her, crushing his lips against her.

Alistair pulled out of her and rolled to her side, holding her so tightly with his lips pressed against her ear.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
